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Scooter should walk

I’d like to introduce the shafted Scooter Libby to Billy Budd and Elian Gonzales.

All have suffered the letter of the law. Billy Budd, of course, was the fictional teen-age sailor created by Herman Melville over 125 years ago in a story about the sacrifice of innocence. As recounted in the 1962 movie of the same name, Billy was an innocent teen, an idealist all the British ship’s crew came to cherish, back in the 1770s. He was driven to do what the rest of the crew wanted done, killing the ship’s sadistic first mate. The ship’s principled and anguished captain had to uphold Britain’s law, but hated it. Finally as the boy was about to be hanged from the yard arm, as prescribed by law, Billy Budd cried out, “God bless Captain Vere!”

It was one of the most emotionally wrenching movie scenes I’ve ever seen.

Fast-forward to the real-life saga of Elian Gonzales, who was similarly sacrificed, though not killed, unto the tender mercies of Castro’s Cuba that demanded his return. As you may recall, the six-year-old youngster, according to Attorney General Janet Reno’s narrow interpretation of the law in 2000, had to be returned to his father in Cuba rather than remain in freedom with other relatives, Cuban expatriates living in Florida. His mother had died trying to boat him to safety in America. It was too sad for words.

As for Scooter Libby, the former senior staffer in the White House and assistant to Vice President Cheney, it’s not so much sad as silly. True, his career has been wrecked, his name forever besmirched by an overzealous federal prosecutor.

But I suspect that most folks conclude he had it coming for lying to the grand jury.

Too bad Scooter wasn’t as skillful a liar as Bill Clinton, but I guess nobody was.

In Libby’s trial, the defense tried to show that he hadn’t lied but simply had poor memory over lots of things. But the judge wouldn’t let expert testimony be heard concerning valid cases of similar memory lapses.

Well. Let me tell you, I could have testified in his behalf. Here’s an example way beyond the “where did I put my glasses?” variety so common among us seniors nowadays.

Two years ago I wrote about an accident I had on U.S. 1 during an “Alberta Clipper” ice storm that had clogged traffic. A car coming from the opposite direction spun into my lane and clipped my right front fender. While we were talking it over a few moments later on the shoulder, an old car did a nearly identical spin but, instead of being merely clipped, was T-boned by an oncoming SUV, killing a woman in the car.

Later I obtained the police report so I could make a contribution to the slain woman’s daughter. The report was a shock. It referenced a pickup truck that had first clipped the old car before the SUV slammed into it.

I didn’t recall that happening at all. I had been an eye witness to the whole episode, but that pickup’s role drew a blank and still does.

Could Scooter Libby have had a faulty memory of a conversation he had with newsman Tim Russert? Could Russert? As a man with what I’d consider all my senses intact, and with a specific harrowing experience as evidence, I’d certainly say yes.

But Libby’s defense couldn’t introduce expert testimony on the subject of such faulty memory. According to a recent piece in the Wall Street Journal, the judge barred the expert, Robert Bjork, from testifying, holding that the science of memory is not science at all but common knowledge and common sense. Further, the judge held that such testimony was more likely to confuse the jury than educate it.

As the article explains, “Many people believe that traumatic events will be ‘burned’ into the mind…In fact, very high stress can diminish accurate recall. More important, memory is not static, like a videotape; rather, it is malleable and subject to change.” Such scientifically valid observations were barred in the trial. I hope the appeal works.

If I couldn’t recall a major detail of a riveting accident and surely if Bill Clinton’s memory was fuzzy regarding Monica, then Scooter Libby should walk.